


Before We Were Joined

by ninemoons42



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Engagement, M/M, Metalworking, Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sort of a remix/prequel to my Valentine's Day fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/339164">Joined</a>, hence the title; this is Erik's POV on the story of the rings.<br/>Written for <span class="ljuser"></span><a href="http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/"><b>cottoncandy_bingo</b></a>. Prompt: engaged/affianced/betrothed. My card is <a href="http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/208216.html">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Before We Were Joined

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a remix/prequel to my Valentine's Day fic [Joined](http://archiveofourown.org/works/339164), hence the title; this is Erik's POV on the story of the rings.  
> Written for [](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**cottoncandy_bingo**](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/). Prompt: engaged/affianced/betrothed. My card is [here](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/208216.html).

title: Before We Were Joined  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)**ninemoons42**  
word count: approx. 1315  
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]  
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr  
rating: PG-13  
notes: Sort of a remix/prequel to my Valentine's Day fic [Joined](http://archiveofourown.org/works/339164), hence the title; this is Erik's POV on the story of the rings.  
Written for [](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**cottoncandy_bingo**](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/). Prompt: engaged/affianced/betrothed. My card is [here](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/208216.html).

  
Just as Erik is about to complete the third lap of his morning run, there’s movement in the windows on his right, making him glance in. The room is one of the smaller studies, converted into a rather more leisurely classroom setting than he’s familiar with. Instead of rows of chairs and desks there are a few squashy overstuffed couches arranged here and there, the whole watched over by a giant desk and about a dozen huge bookcases, tall enough to require ladders to reach the topmost shelves.

But that’s not what catches Erik’s attention, and that’s not what suddenly grounds him where he stands.

That has to be Charles standing with his back to the windows, with his hands clasped behind his back: the knitted cardigan is familiar, as are the fingerless gloves.

From long hours of observation Erik has become more than aware that Charles cannot really stay in one position for very long, and only a few moments pass before that observation is proved true again: Charles puts one hand behind him on the glass and begins to pace in a circle – and as he turns toward the windows Erik can see his mouth in motion. He wonders who Charles is talking to.

There’s a slight pull on the edges of Erik’s consciousness and he lets Charles in, recognizing the gesture for what it is: a way of asking for permission – something that Charles shouldn’t even be bothering with, given the vast extent of his powers. Erik has seen him prove that again and again in the weeks and months after Cuba, after Charles spoke very carefully to him and then to the others on the beach and then to the men on the ships.

Like Erik after crushing Shaw’s helmet between his bare hands, something has been unlocked in Charles’s mind, and together there is nothing on the face of the Earth that the two of them cannot overcome, and yet here Charles is, asking for permission to speak in Erik’s mind.

 _Who is it, Charles?_ Erik asks now, as he continues to look up at the window that still has Charles in its frame.

 _Moira,_ is the answer. _Situation report from Levine._

 _I should come in to join you,_ Erik says.

 _When you finish your run,_ Charles says. _Nothing important to report yet._

Erik gives him a mental shrug at that and returns to his run. The rhythmic strike of his feet on the path is soothing, and it also effectively kills all thought – well, almost all of it.

Stainless steel is as nothing to his abilities, and yet he knows he’s already wasted too much time on the things he’s trying to create. There is always an excuse of some kind or another: not shiny enough, too shiny, too polished, too matte. It’s frustrating: he knows exactly what he wants the finished items to look like, and he knows how he’s supposed to get there. Some part of him, however, is getting in the way: he wants something discreet and beautiful and perfect, and he has no idea if he can even achieve any of those things.

Charles meets him about halfway through the house, just as Erik has changed into most of a suit and Charles has exchanged his cardigan for a more formal-looking jacket. He raises an eyebrow in Erik’s direction, but falls into step with him, easily; all he says is, “Good run?”

“It was acceptable,” Erik says, and then he follows Charles to the smaller dining room, and to what turns out to be a working breakfast. There is a bread basket and there are scrambled eggs and half of last night’s roast chicken; there is coffee for Erik and tea for Charles and a big pitcher of orange juice besides.

The other half of the table is covered in piles of papers and several maps, and it only takes a glance before Erik nods once in understanding. “So we’re going through with the raid on the Virginia office?”

Charles smiles and butters a roll. “You and Moira have both spent a lot of time convincing me, and now we’re getting indications of actual trouble, so congratulations – you’ve both won the argument. We’re moving as soon as we can settle on something from the list of methods that you presented last week.”

Erik grins at Charles. “Wheels-up before noon and home in time for dinner?”

“If things go according to plan, yes,” Charles says. “Now eat. We’re not doing anything on empty stomachs.”

///

Erik takes his stainless steel with him in the pockets of his suit, and once Charles has his eyes closed and is busy with coordinating communications between Moira on the ground and Hank at the controls of the rebuilt Blackbird, he floats them out and toys with them, forming them into all kinds of shapes: little guns, replicas of the plane, even a miniature of the Cerebro installation.

It gets him a raised eyebrow from Angel and a smirk from Alex – and Alex even goes so far as to lean over and ask, as quietly as he can over the shriek of the engines, “You do know you’re being painfully, _painfully_ obvious to the rest of us?”

“We don’t have to be like Charles to guess exactly what you’re thinking about,” Sean says from Erik’s other side.

Erik shrugs, and says, “So long as none of you spoil the surprise – and if you do, I will know who tattled and I will spend quite a lot of time getting even.”

Sean turns pale under his freckles, and the rest of them try to cover up their surprise and chagrin with coughs, and Erik puts his chunk of metal away just as the Blackbird comes in for a smooth landing.

///

Charles takes charge of the Virginia facility with very little visible effort – though he does have to keep looking at the long, low buildings and at Cerebro.

This means that Erik can look his fill, because he’s walking at Charles’s side, easily deflecting any and all metal that seems to be heading or pointing in their direction.

Now more than ever, Erik is profoundly grateful that Charles keeps his promises – especially the one he made to Erik, the one in which he respects Erik’s privacy at all times, even in the middle of a battle – because Erik’s fairly sure his intentions are so obvious they must be written even on his face, and yet Charles says nothing, only stays by his side and prompts him when it’s time to advance to the next stage of their plan.

///

Somewhere along the way Erik’s intentions must twine into his abilities and the fact that the only thing he’s thinking about in the middle of a sudden battle is still Charles, because when they get home and there are minor wounds and bruises to tend to and Charles skips dinner because he’s got a headache, Erik looks at the rings that have appeared in his pocket as though by magic.

Two perfect rings, cut on the inside for comfort and also so that they will stand out on the finger, and domed on the outside for a traditional look, and beautifully polished on all sides.

///

Two nights later Erik summons the key for his handcuffs into Charles’s hand, and Charles releases him and yawns and Erik pushes Charles into the pillows and is dead to the world within moments.

And that’s when Erik calls the rings to him; that’s when he presses a kiss to Charles’s temple and thinks at him: _Will you marry me?_ , and slides the smaller of the rings onto Charles’s left hand.

He puts on his own ring and hopes Charles will take it off and then put it on again, purely symbolic gesture and a purely truthful one, and lets Charles wrap sleep and warmth around him.  



End file.
